


we can always go back

by milkshakesandmurders



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Light Angst, One Shot, s02 e05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-09 21:44:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12897465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkshakesandmurders/pseuds/milkshakesandmurders
Summary: How stupid were they to actually think it would work? Why would it be any different? What were they expecting to happen? They were teenagers, for fucks sake. Who actually packs an overnight duffle bag, jumps on the back of a motorcycle with their 16-year-old boyfriend and just runs away?Elizabeth ‘Betty’ Cooper, that’s who. 15-year-old Betty Cooper.





	we can always go back

**Author's Note:**

> Day one of my five day celebratory 550 follower Bughead fanfic giveaway!
> 
> The ever so amazing and supportive @a92vm slid into my messages this morning requesting a one shot based on a couple of things (thanks, lady) - Livin’ on a Prayer by the one and only Bon Jovi AND the heartbreaking scene in the diner from episode five.

 Lying on their double bed, in the studio apartment, with a few candles burning (thanks to the yet another electricity disconnection) Betty kicked her shoes off (noting that she desperately needed a new pair) and grimaced at the pain that was radiating from her feet right up to the thighs – her feet were painfully sore, and it was thanks to her less than appropriate shoes. Staring up at the paint peeling off the ceiling, and the unreachable cobwebs, she rolled over and looked out the small window with a makeshift curtain (an old and past it’s used by date bedsheet) when a single tear could no longer be held at bay.

It hadn’t always been this way.   
For the first couple of months at least; Betty and Jughead had been in a bubble of a domestic bliss. Leaving Riverdale behind; remembering the conversation at Pop’s…  
  
  
_Jughead: I wish we could just go. Just hop on a motorcycle and just leave Riverdale. Go somewhere where there’s no North Side or South Side or Serpents or Ghoulies._

_Betty: No crazy moms, no black hoods. Like Romeo and Juliet, but we live happily ever after instead._  
  
  
How stupid were they to actually think it would work? Why would it be any different? What were they expecting to happen? They were teenagers, for fucks sake. Who actually packs an overnight duffle bag, jumps on the back of a motorcycle with their 16-year-old boyfriend and just runs away?  
Elizabeth ‘Betty’ Cooper, that’s who. 15-year-old Betty Cooper.

  
  
_“what do you mean you didn’t pay the electricity bill?” Betty screeched as she was frantically running around their too-small-of-a-space flicking light switches on and off, “it was the only thing I asked you to do, Jughead! I handed you the bill to pay!”_  
  
_“I’m sorry, Betts. I’ve been tired and-“_  
  
_“Tired? You’ve been tired!? That’s your fucking excuse for this? We have no electricity, Jughead! What were you thinking?” Betty was frantic, she was teetering on the edge._  
  
_“We have candles, we can use them.” Jughead was trying, he really was. There was no denying things were hard. They had been struggling for a while now; between him only being able to obtain a night shift job, and Betty working days (12 hour days as well) at the local diner. They hardly saw each other and when they did, well…_  
  
_Furiously rubbing her hands over her face, Betty threw her hair up in a messy and careless ponytail and grabbed her handbag, “I cannot keep having this same argument over and over again, I just-“ refusing to cry in front of him again, she willed herself to keep the tears from falling, “-I’m tired as well. We should think about going back.” Instantly noticing his shoulders fall, Betty simply nodded (happy to finally have those feelings out in the open) and left for work._

  
  
Whenever they argued, whenever one of them left in a huff – the other would always, _always_ make contact. But, today, she hadn’t heard from Jughead. Every hour on the hour, she would sneak a look at her phone (stashed away in her apron) – but nothing, not a peep, not a single text message, no voicemail and of course, no phone call. Betty sighed as she rolled back over, again, staring at the neglected ceiling.

  
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, squeezing her eyes closed at the pain in her feet, she slowly stood up and walked the small distant to their kitchenette. As Betty was busying herself in the fridge; the familiar rumble of his motorcycle came from outside. Betty retreated to the drawers and pulled out her sweatpants and hoodie, chucking her dirty smelly waitress uniform in the corner (remembering it was laundry day tomorrow, and also thinking they really need a laundry basket) and pulled on her ‘fashionable yet comfortable’ choice of clothing attire, before grabbing her keys and running downstairs.  
  
Once Betty had descended the stairs, she watched Jughead fiddle with his bike; and for that brief moment – the anger, the disappointment and sadness she had felt 16 hours earlier, had disappeared. With her head down, she slowly made her way over to bike.  
  
“Hey,” she barely whispered.  
  
Jughead turned around, and leant against his bike, “Hey, you.” A small smile forming.  
  
“How is it that you never get helmet hair?” she edged closer, fighting every urge to run her fingers through his hair.  
  
“It’s a combination of this volumising shampoo and condition this wonderful woman buys me,” he reached out, grabbing Betty’s hands to pull her closer, “it smells like vanilla, do I strike you as a vanilla smelling kinda guy?” he patted his bike.  
  
Betty giggled (she’s not sure when she giggled last), “it’s actually vanilla AND coconut,” she couldn’t resist it any longer, and gently brushed her hand through his hair, “I’m sorry, Juggie. What I said this morning, it was uncalled for. I was mad-“  
  
“Hey, shhh, shhh. I know. I fucked up, and I’m sorry. I went to the post office this morning, right after you left, and paid the bill,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead, “we’ll have it back by tomorrow morning,” pulling her head in under his chin, “I love you, Betts. We’re going to be okay. But, if you were serious about going back, I’d do anything for you. If you wanna go back, we can go back, you know?”  
  
Betty gently nodded into his chest, “maybe, just a little while longer? We’re only month-to-month with our lease, so a couple more months? See how we go, yeah?”  
  
Jughead squeezed Betty a little harder, “Sounds like a plan. Look, Betty, as long as I have you, that’s all I care about. I just want you to be happy. I love you, yeah?”  
  
She reached up and laced her arms around his neck, “and, I love you, Jughead,” Softly planting a kiss on his chapped lips, “can we go for a ride?”

He smiled and reached into the compartment underneath the seat and pulled out Betty’s helmet, “You don’t have to ask me twice, blondie.”

 


End file.
